The sun rays coming from the window is the only light source this room has at the moment. The room is decorated with different armors. Some of it are noticeably battle worn as it still has scratches and burn marks. Some are almost never seen the light of the battlefield.
Sitting at the corner of the room is an old man that's writing something at a piece of scroll using a quill. Every now and then he touches the long scar in his face as if he's recalling something.
*Thud, thud, thud*
His focus was disturbed by a knock that's coming from the door in front of him. As much as he wanted to hide the irritation that was caused by this knocking, his face betrays him.
"Come in!" the old man said still trying to remain calm and compose.
